


Lay a strong enough foundation

by Mynuet



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire, Canon-Typical Violence, Christmas, Fluff, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Nurse Derek, Single Parent Stiles Stilinski, and then Gerard, and then fluff again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 07:33:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5531144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mynuet/pseuds/Mynuet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is the single father of a brand-new preemie; Derek is a nurse that works in the neonatal intensive care unit.  They fall in love, and then magic happens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lay a strong enough foundation

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this as a backup to be under 3,000 words for [stereksecretsanta](http://stereksecretsanta.tumblr.com/) and then kind of just kept going. (Check them out - lots of great stories posted there!)
> 
> The title is a line of [Dear Theodosia](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vjMN6zSVFQg) from the Hamilton soundtrack, which I listened to about a thousand times while writing, and got invaluable encouragement from my friend Kerry, who is the best Sterek friend I could have. 
> 
> There's an off-screen minor character death which is not canon and significantly affects a character's history. If you want a warning for it, I put one in the end notes. Like it says in the tags, it's basically fluff, evil Gerard, then more fluff.

"I'm going to give you the world," Stiles whispered, tracing a finger over the plexiglass separating him from his kid. "I don't know how, but I'm going to be the best dad, I promise. All you gotta do is bust out of this, okay?"

The baby shifted, her little rosebud mouth opened wide in a yawn before waving a wrinkled hand and the wire attached to it by what looked like a flat, round magnet in a sticker. Similar wires were attached all over the baby's body, the readouts pulsing and beeping steadily on the machines all around the incubator. Her tiny, perfect nose was almost lost to sight between the feeding tube through one nostril and the piece of bandage tape holding it in place. She was so tiny, so frail, that he kept checking the monitors to make sure he wasn't fooling himself into seeing the rise and fall of her chest.

"You can open the porthole." Stiles jumped at the voice right next to him, turning to see it was a male nurse, big and bearded and wearing light blue scrubs. "Babies respond to touch, and it helps parents realize their baby is really here after all the waiting."

Stiles nodded, fiddling with the porthole for a moment before the nurse stepped up and did it for him. Stiles hesitated again with his hand in the bassinet - it seemed so large, where he'd never thought about the size of his hands before, but what if he somehow hurt the baby with his big, clumsy hands? Ultimately he just traced a finger over her forehead, as softly as he could manage, and she stretched towards the touch as much as she could. "Oh my God." It was barely a murmur, but in his heart it felt like a shout, like a choir singing it all at once at top volume, because the nurse had been right - that gentle touch made the baby more real than she'd felt in the entirety of her brief time on earth so far.

He cupped the top of her head, careful of the soft spot, and longed to sweep away the wires and IV and everything keeping him from holding her against his chest and rocking her to sleep. As it was, he stood with his hand against her skin until the nurse gently told him they needed to close the incubator again to make sure her temperature stayed where it should be.

She was moved to a radiant warmer in the morning, the open top making her seem somehow so much safer than she had been when encased in plexiglass, and he was allowed to hold her for the first time while sitting in the rocking chair in their little cubicle. One of the nurses showed him how to put his hands and be careful of her monitors, and he was completely unashamed by the tears streaming down his face at holding his precious baby, this actual living being that had come from him and Lydia. She was smaller and lighter than the doll he'd used to practice changing diapers, and she needed some time to gain weight and see if the apnea with the attendant slow heartrate episodes would clear up once she developed a bit more, but her little lungs were functioning perfectly and she was the single most perfect human being to ever exist.

Shift change happened every twelve hours, and the neonatal intensive care unit was closed to everyone except employees for the six o'clock hour in both morning and evening. Those were the times when Stiles drove to his apartment for a shower and a change of clothes, only to grab something from a drive-thru on his way back to be with his kid. He slept in the rocking chair, somehow managing to tune out the noise of all the monitors but wake instantly when it was his own kid's. He didn't know how long he'd been there; his sense of time was completely distorted by the odd schedule and the surreal experience of having become a parent but not getting to actually take the baby home.

The nurses would sit and chat with him sometimes, Derek most of all. They learned quickly enough that he and the kid were pretty much it, since he and Lydia had only had the one disastrous night before trying to forget it had happened and realizing they couldn't. His dad had hit the roof when he found out Stiles was putting college on hold in order to be a dad, and they hadn't spoken since, and while his friends would hit 'like' on the Facebook posts of his daughter's pictures, none of them was really inclined to come to the hospital and scrub in to visit them.

"But it's okay," Stiles said when Derek looked pissed enough to go track some people down and kick the shit out of them for not visiting. "I've never really had that many friends, so it's not like I'm missing anything. And it's less germs, right?"

Derek grunted, which made Stiles laugh. He wasn't a big talker, but Stiles always understood him just fine, and his steady presence made Stiles feel safe and even cared for. Somehow, it always ended up being Derek that herded him through the milestones - first time feeding her a bottle, first time changing a diaper, first time giving her a bath, getting her dressed, cutting her nails, holding her against his chest and dancing her around gently because "My Girl" came on the radio and was immediately declared their song. Derek would also talk to him, first just about work stuff, but then about movies and books and his family. From the sound of it, his sisters were demons but his mom was the most perfect badass to ever live, even surpassing the glory that was Lydia Martin.

He was even there when Stiles finally came up with a name, because he'd been going through a baby name book for days until he hit the Ns and decided that being named for both Black Widow _and_ Derek's mother was impossible to pass up. Natalia Claudia Stilinski went on the birth certificate, and the next day she had her first stuffed animal, a little grey wolf with blue eyes and a ribbon for a collar that had her name stitched on it.

The wolf was delivered by Nat's first visitor, her namegiver and self-declared honorary grandmother. Talia was everything gracious and kind, even as she gave off an air of being perfectly willing and capable of absolutely murdering anyone that displeased her. Stiles liked her a lot, even though the visit made him miss his own mother fiercely, and wonder if she would have disowned him along with his father or if she would have been there as readily as Talia was. She visited several more times, and sent meals in almost every day so that Stiles could stop relying exclusively on food served through the window of his car for sustenance.

The day finally came for Nat to come home, and Stiles was thrilled and terrified in equal measure. Derek made sure the carseat was installed correctly, despite the weird contortions required to fit it into the Jeep, shoved a diaper bag full of bottles and premium formula and diapers into his hands, and then Stiles was in the car and driving off, solely responsible for the well-being of a tiny human being that was still just shy of five pounds. 

It seemed like he completely failed as a parent the instant he was alone. The crib wasn't set up, because he'd thought he had another month before her due date and then he hadn't been home long enough to get it done. She hated staying in the detachable carrier from the car seat, refused to take the bottle he'd heated up, developed a slight rash and a massive case of constipation, and literally screamed herself to an exhausted sleep, only to wake up and resume crying when Stiles tripped over a part of the crib and swore as the bag of screws fell out of his hands and scattered its contents to every corner of his studio apartment.

He was sobbing right along with her as he reached for her phone, not sure who he was going to call - maybe he could call the hospital and get them readmitted until he stopped being such a horrible father, or maybe he could call one of the adoption agencies his dad had recommended, or maybe... Maybe he could call Talia, who had said he was welcome to call anytime he wanted to talk to someone else who'd had the single parent experience, although in her case it had been because of her husband's work requiring frequent and extended travel and not a case of total failure to form normal human attachments.

Derek was there within ten minutes of the phone call, tucking both Stiles and Nat into bed and promising to fix everything. Stiles woke up to a clean apartment with a well-fed and content baby sleeping peacefully in her new crib and promptly burst into tears again. He'd have joked about turning in his man card, but he was just too damn tired.

"Listen," Derek said, taking him by the shoulders and giving him a little shake. "You are an _amazing_ dad. You have done everything you can for that little girl, and she's so, so lucky to have you. You're doing too much, but you're making it through, and the fact that it took you this long to break is nothing short of a miracle. Get some sleep, eat something, and when you wake up, you'll be ready to keep on being Nat's whole world."

"That's the most I've ever heard you say at one time," Stiles said, trying very hard not to sniffle. 

The answer was an expressive eye roll and a small growl. It made Stiles smile, even as he shuffled to the bathroom and then fell back into bed.

Derek had been right, because _of course_ he was right - eating and sleeping made all the difference in Stiles regaining a grip on his sanity, although some would say he never had one. It was strange to look at Derek in his kitchenette, holding his baby, and realize that he wanted to jump his bones and then take another nap while snuggling. He'd even give Derek his choice of which spoon to be.

"I-- You know I can't ever thank you enough, right?" Stiles reached out to stroke his hand over Nat's small back as she snuggled into the crook of Derek's neck. "Pretty sure the hospital doesn't provide this kind of service, not with the kind of insurance we've got."

Derek gave him a small smile that seemed to light up his whole being. "Do you have any plans for Christmas?"

Blinking hard at the non-sequitur, Stiles said, "Christmas?"

"Christmas Eve is on Sunday." Nat made a little mewling noise and Derek carefully transferred her to Stiles's arms before starting to put a bottle together. "You could come over, if you want to."

"I wouldn't want to intrude," Stiles said, manners taking over automatically as his brain was busy trying to sort out what it meant.

Derek shook his head and handed him the bottle. "You wouldn't be. They all want to meet you - Mom had to smack them down to keep them from descending on you in the hospital."

"They want to meet _me_? Why?" Stiles sat on the edge of the bed with Nat and her bottle, and only then did he realize there was nowhere else to sit; he'd never had people over before, and what furniture he did have consisted of a bed he'd bought on Craigslist and some crates and lamps and a bookcase scavenged from curbsides when the dorms cleared out for the summer. 

"I've talked about you," Derek said, and Stiles thought there might be a slight flush creeping up his cheeks. "They're curious."

Nat lost her suction and Stiles shifted her around, giving her a couple of quick pats to release a burp before giving her the bottle again. "You talked? About me? I guess I am kind of lame enough to be noteworthy, since I don't know anything about this whole baby thing. I read everything, like, _everything_ , but the reality is completely different."

That was _definitely_ a flush - Derek's ears were bright red. "I told you, you're an amazing dad."

"I can't be the only decent dad you've seen at the NICU," Stiles said. "Do you invite all of them to share holidays with you, or just the really pathetic ones?"

"Just the cute ones," Derek said, turning away to fiddle with something on the counter, his ears now seeming two shades of blush away from actually catching on fire.

Stiles jerked with the surprise, then busied himself with getting Nat peaceful again to give himself time to think. It was possible Derek was messing with him - it wouldn't be the first time someone had set up a 'no homo' to rip Stiles to pieces - but that didn't seem even a little bit like Derek's style. And if he meant it, how did Stiles feel about it? 

"So you're asking me to meet your family on our first date?" There. That was subdued enough that he could walk it back as just joining the joke if he needed to, but still expressed interest in case it was for real. Stiles had to really congratulate the back of his brain for coming up with that on the fly and instantly putting it out into the world.

"We could have another date first," Derek said, and Stiles felt his heartbeat going completely crazy, because no one would be that committed to a joke, so this might be for real. "My mom could babysit, or we could take her with us."

And now he had to come up with a date he could afford on a budget that barely stretched to rent _and_ food. Thank God for WIC, since it covered the formula that Nat needed. He wanted to go out with Derek - he was just starting to realize how much he did - but he didn't know if he could admit that about half of his meals in the month before Nat's birth had consisted of hot water.

He must have been quiet too long, because Derek said, "If you don't want to, I'd still like to be your friend. I promise not to mention it again."

"I do, I do want to," Stiles burst out, but Derek clearly didn't believe him. "You're amazing and hot and I want to cuddle the shi-- er, I want to cuddle you a lot."

Derek's shoulders went down a bit from the defensive hunch they'd gone into, but he still didn't look fully convinced. "I need to get to work soon, so we can talk later. I left my number in case you need anything, and my mom wants to come over when you're ready."

As quickly as he could, Stiles lay Nat down on the bed with the blankets and pillows around her so she'd stay in place. Derek was already at the door by the time Stiles had freed himself, and Stiles interrupted Derek saying goodbye by throwing himself at him. (And if it was in part because he tripped over some of the laundry scattered on the floor, oh well.)

Derek caught him, bending enough that they were positioned like a dip on the dance floor, and Stiles went for broke, throwing his arms around Derek's neck and kissing him for all he was worth. Derek only gave him a moment to get nervous before he was kissing back, and both of them were greedy, wrapped up in each other and wanting more. 

Panting as he finally drew back, Stiles said hoarsely, "You're going to be late."

"Text me your number," Derek said, coming back for one more hard kiss before reaching behind his back to open the door. 

He was gone before Stiles could respond, and he looked over at where Nat was on the bed watching her own hands twist in front of her face. "I don't know how we're going to do it, but I want to keep that one forever."

She gurgled, which Stiles chose to interpret as happy agreement. 

***

 

They didn't end up having a date before Christmas, at least one that involved leaving the apartment. Stiles managed to log a few extra hours transcribing, so he'd had enough money to invite Derek over for dinner. Derek had been a lot more impressed than Stiles really thought the pasta carbonara really merited, but he could live with that, and with having spent less than ten dollars.

He'd been tempted, so very very tempted, to suggest Derek could spend the night and help him eat the bacon and eggs he'd had left for breakfast the next morning. If he'd had any condoms or lube, or a separate room where Nat could sleep, it wouldn't have been a question. As it was, he ended up with beard burn all over his neck from the best makeout session ever.

The idea of presents hadn't occurred to him until late that night, but luckily part of the conversation had involved who he'd be meeting on Sunday. A quick trip to the dollar store yielded nothing he'd want to give, even if he could afford to buy one thing for everyone, but he did pick up some nice paper and decent pens, as well as a platter and some plastic wrap. Nat burbled happily at all the new sights and sounds, and Stiles beamed at the checkout lady when she raved about how pretty and well-behaved Nat was. He might be getting the hang of this adult thing.

If Derek wondered why Stiles was suddenly demanding a brief biography of each family member, he didn't mention it, just kept on answering questions. He hadn't been able to come over, but they spent the whole night talking anyway. Stiles was pretty sure he was dangerously close to falling completely in love. He didn't think he minded.

The morning of the 24th found Stiles bleary-eyed and groggy as he tried to figure out why his head was pounding so hard. The mystery was solved when Derek called his name and Stiles shambled to the door to let him in, pointing to table where his keys lay on top of the pile of gifts he'd prepared and stacked on top of the platter of cookies he'd made. Still half asleep, he shuffled back and forth to go to the bathroom and check on Nat and brush his teeth and panic halfway through wrestling her into the cute little sleeper he'd gotten at Goodwill. 

Unfortunately, Derek had already moved the car seat and taken everything down to his car, so there was no developing a sudden and devastating case of the plague, or even forgetfulness. "Ready to go?"

"You don't have any hyper-religious or otherwise intolerant relatives, right?" Stiles handed off Nat out of habit when Derek reached for her, then found himself going along with being herded into the car and buckled in. "I mean, I think that's the sort of thing you'd mention. Well, not, like, to anybody, because that's a super weird conversational topic, but since I'm meeting them forewarned is forearmed, right? And I like forearmed. I like forearms, too, although it's a really weird word. Even weirder, what's the word for the top part of your arm? Like, for your leg it's thigh and calf, but then for the arm it's forearm and what?"

"It's just called the arm," Derek said as he merged smoothly into traffic.

"Huh." Stiles was quiet a minute, but then his nerves got the better of him and he started chattering without much clue what he was actually saying. Derek nodded along, interjecting a comment once in a while. It almost had Stiles feeling settled before they pulled off onto a dirt road and drove through the forest to pull through an ornate set of gates. "Holy shit, this is an _estate_."

Derek snorted. "Don't be ridiculous."

"They could film Downton Abbey here," Stiles said, gawking at the house. It was an exaggeration, but not by much. "Like, I'm expecting a row of servants bobbing up and down as we go in."

"Sorry, just family," Derek said, hefting the cookies along with his bags full of packages. 

Stiles almost jumped out of his skin when a female voice right behind him said, "I think I've got a French maid outfit, if that would help."

" _Laura._ " Derek's growl didn't impress her in the slightest, and Stiles hung back and watched as they had a brief scuffle which ended with Laura in possession of the platter and Derek with his hair thoroughly mussed. "You're not funny."

"I'm hilarious," she said, giving Stiles a wink. "Come on, everyone's dying to meet the kid. And you, but Mom's bragged so much about having someone perfect named after her that no one would be surprised if she poops rainbows."

Stiles laughed. "No rainbows yet, but I'll be on the lookout."

"See that you are." She led the way inside what was actually a nice family home and not at all the kind of mansion he'd thought it would be just based on its size. Laura introduced people are they passed, and Stiles waved Nat's arm for her and generally behaved like a dork. 

It went okay. His cookies were put out along with mugs of hot cocoa and an assortment of other cookies and snacks. People were eating them, so the praise he got was probably sincere, and Derek kept coming back to check on him in between being put to work on whatever task his mother or sisters dreamt up. There was a _lot_ of hugging, and apparently they were either super emotional or massively allergic, because each hug was accompanied by matching sniffles.

"Presents!" One of the younger ones yelled out - Stiles thought she might be named Dora, but he'd lost track of what name went with which person ages ago. The cry was taken up by a few of the others, including Cora and Peter, who waved their mugs in unison to lead a chant.

Stiles was wide-eyed at the speed and efficiency of distribution, and at the size of the pile that had ended up at his feet. His one attempt at protesting was cut off by a pinch from Laura that was probably going to bruise, and a sad look from Derek that he just wasn't going to read into. At least he'd brought presents to give in return, even if they were crappy and homemade.

"Everyone chooses _one_ to open," Talia said firmly. "Youngest to oldest. Peter, we all know how old you are, don't even think about it. Jessica, two halves don't count as one present. Julio, no shredding. Cora and Laura, no taunting."

Pouting, Laura said, "How come Peter doesn't get warned about the teasing?" 

"Because he's beyond hope," Talia said briskly. "Stiles, dear, did you want me to hold little Natty while you pick a present for her, or did you want Derek to choose one?"

"Oh. Guess she's the youngest, huh?" Stiles looked down at the pile helplessly and just pointed to one in bright blue paper. "Blue, because it's pretty."

Laura gave Derek a wicked grin at that, although Stiles couldn't for the life of him say why. "That one's from me."

It was the smallest leather jacket Stiles had ever seen, a miniature scale model of the one Derek wore whenever he wasn't at work. Stiles was torn between cooing and cackling. "That's so perfect. She's going to be the coolest kid ever."

"Already is," Derek rumbled, although he still shot Laura a glare.

"My turn!" The present this time was a Barbie Dream House, and the distraction gave Stiles time to lean against Derek and whisper, "She might be my mini-me, but I can share."

Derek nuzzled against Stiles, sniffling just like his family had during the hugs. "You couldn't be more perfect."

The question of what to say in return was rendered moot by the way Derek's face twisted and he whisked Nat away, snagging the diaper bag as he went. Stiles hadn't even smelled anything yet, but a couple of the others apparently had, judging by the faces they made. Maybe all the sniffling was because they had hyper-sensitive noses?

It was his turn sooner than he'd thought, and he looked at the pile helplessly. He ended up poking one at random, an envelope which contained a card much like the ones he'd made. It was the best present he could possibly have gotten, because it brought with it a watershed of relief that his own measly presents wouldn't be unusual or out of place. "Manual labor, huh? What happens if we go over the eight hours and you're helping me hold something heavy?"

"I'd drop it on your foot," Malia said solemnly, and he laughed because she was probably completely sincere. She had no bullshit about her whatsoever, and it was all the more amusing for her being Peter's daughter, who was the undisputed king of bullshit.

"Or you'd have to bribe her with a pizza," Peter said, right on cue. As if she'd be interested in pizza when she was obviously on a low carb diet; she hadn't touched any of the baked goods being passed around all day, just wandered in and out of the kitchen munching on jerky.

Malia was giving her father an oddly helpless look, but Cora piped up with a demand for her own present that broke up the tension and got everyone's attention back on the presents. Stiles thought he was probably the only one that noticed the way Peter reached out to stroke Malia's hair and she turned her face away from him.

Derek's return distracted Stiles, especially the way he stole a quick kiss as he deposited Nat back in his arms. Stiles could feel his cheeks glowing, but he couldn't stop it any more than he could stop smiling foolishly. The most he could do was hide both against Nat's belly for a random tickle-time. 

"I want the one from Stiles," Derek said when it was his turn, and Laura helped him dig for it through a pile that was mostly envelopes, books, and two squishy things that were probably sweaters. Stiles held his breath as Derek carefully pulled apart the wax that Stiles had used to seal the imitation parchment closed, since he hadn't been able to afford envelopes and the wax made it classier than just a folded up piece of paper with the best attempt Stiles could make at calligraphy. Derek would pretend to like it even if he didn't, but Stiles hoped that he wouldn't have to. 

He still couldn't breathe as Derek closed his eyes and sucked a breath in through his nose, almost as if he'd had a shock, or gone from bitter cold to steaming warmth in one step. Stiles couldn't tell if it was good or bad, and since no one else was talking his mouth took over. "It's a blessing rune, well, not rune, since it's not on a rock and it's not really Futhark, but I found it when I was studying up for my phone psychic gig, because I cared about accuracy even if the company didn't. Not that I think I'm really psychic, although my regulars did, and my mom said that her family had connections to the Roma and I'd grow into my powers, but I think she really meant my face. I was a weird-looking kid."

No one was talking, and Stiles couldn't stop. "Anyway, that's what they all are. It'll say specifics in each one, I wrote that part in English, but they're pretty much all blessings for happiness and protection and good health and everything that Christmas and New Year should be about, you know? I tried to add something personal to everybody's from what Derek told me about you all, so if I got something wrong, it's all his fault."

"I'm sure they're perfect," Talia said faintly, and Stiles could finally take a breath. " _Thank you._ From all of us."

It was really weirdly intense, especially with the way she was pinning him down with her gaze and the reflection of the Christmas lights was making it seem like her eyes were red. Stiles squirmed. "It's not much, really, I just wanted to bring something to thank you all for your hospitality."

"Nonsense," Peter said, and at least _he_ sounded normal. Obnoxious was totally normal for Peter. "We're just glad that Derek's found such a spark as you."

Derek growled and reached out to smack the back of Peter's head, and Stiles laughed. "Sure, okay. Who's next? I think Miss Natalia the Younger might need a nap soon and I don't want to miss anything."

Not everyone opened their card from Stiles, but enough of the adults did that he had to hold tight to Derek's hand to stop himself from babbling. The blushing was going to happen regardless, especially when Laura read Peter's card over his shoulder and literally laughed until she ran out of breath about the wish for quiet wisdom that Stiles had inscribed there. Even Talia cracked a smile when Peter said, with grave dignity, "I already _have_ quiet wisdom, I just happen to also have a scintillating wit."

"That's covered by the rune for sharing joy," Stiles said. "Since you're a thing of beauty and a joy forever, right?"

"I like you," Peter said. "If you ever decide you want to trade up from Derek, feel free to look me up."

Natalia's heartily blowing a raspberry was the perfect punctuation for Stiles saying, "I'll keep that in mind, but I always did like Prince Charming better than the Evil Queen."

This time it was Derek hiding his face, but Stiles could feel his smile against the back of his neck, and Peter couldn't keep a straight face as he raised his cocoa mug in a toast and said "Touché." 

"I don't understand the joke," Malia said, but then Cora whispered something in her ear and she nodded. "Stiles should stay here instead of moving to the new apartment. My father needs someone to be mean to him all the time."

Stiles obviously looked as confused as he felt, because Laura sighed. "Well, I suppose you might as well open my present now as in the morning. We weren't sure whether to wake you guys up with the kids or wait for Tally Junior to wake up on her own schedule anyway."

More confused than ever, Stiles handed Nat off to Derek and took the lumpy envelope she pushed into his hands. "I... I didn't think we were spending the night. I didn't pack enough."

"That's okay, we'll just buy anything you're missing," Laura said. "Cora and Malia can get it when they pretend they can sneak out without everybody knowing."

"Shut up, we're totally sneaky," Cora said, and the two descended into mild bickering while other side conversations went on and Stiles twisted the envelope in his hands. 

Dread wasn't helping anything, and he didn't even know why he felt it so strongly. He ripped into the red paper only to have a key fall out and land in his lap. The card was a generic holiday one, and on the inside in large, looping writing were the words, "Your new lease is one dollar a year and I gave you ten dollars for Christmas. Love, Laura" and an address. Stiles felt cold inside as the whole day lost the sheen of family and took on the aura of pity. "Did you know about this?"

Derek looked up from where he'd been playing with Nat's feet with a frown. "Know about what?"

"I have to go," Stiles said, standing up and snatching Nat into his arms. He didn't have much in his head beside the need to escape, and he was outside before he realized he didn't have Nat's diaper bag, let alone a car to drive away with. He tried to breathe deeply, needing to calm the rising hysteria he felt. So he was a charity case, so what? They were rich and he was poor and they were nice and--

The hand on his shoulder made him jump and he snarled, "I don't need anyone to feel sorry for me."

Taken aback, Derek said, "I don't."

"Well apparently you do, since somehow your sister got the idea that I'm homeless." Stiles was practically snarling, every feeling of inadequacy that he'd felt since he'd left college to prepare for Nat's birth rising to the surface. "I can provide for my daughter!"

"No one's saying you can't," Derek said, looking a bit hunted. "All I said was that your apartment's kind of small."

"So's Nat," Stiles said icily. "There's more than enough room for the two of us."

Derek looked wounded. "I'd hoped... I hoped there would be room for me, too."

"Take me home," Stiles said, feeling beyond tired. "I need to not be here."

He stayed out on the porch with Nat while Derek disappeared inside, then walked off to stand next to the Camaro when Laura came out and tried to talk to him. It didn't help that she followed him and kept going. "Seriously, I don't get it. You live in Cracktown, I just wanted to help!"

The chirp of the car doors unlocking was like the trumpets of heaven and Stiles got in and slammed the door, still holding on to Nat. Derek could put her in the car seat when he got there; Stiles was busy trying to keep himself from either screaming or crying.

They passed the drive in silence, and Derek hesitated when he'd rounded the car only to find Stiles had already shouldered the diaper bag and gotten the baby out. "Stiles, I... I didn't know."

"Do you even like me, or did you just feel sorry for me and figured pretending to was the best way to protect my kid from my inadequacies?" The wounded noise Derek made was enough to make the last of the anger drain out of Stiles, leaving him feeling exhausted beyond measure. "Whatever, look, I'm tired. We'll talk when I can be rational. Most people wouldn't complain about a rent-free apartment, right?"

"Please," Derek said, and Stiles felt his heart breaking at how small and broken a sound it was. "Please don't shut me out. I love you."

Blinking hard against the urge to cry, Stiles said, "You should be with your family. It's Christmas."

"What if I already am?" Reaching out to grab Stiles by the arm, he said, "I want us to be a family. You, me, and Nat."

"It's too soon," Stiles whispered. "You're just, you're caught up in the whole new baby thing and the whole Hallmark channel thing with me as the plucky single mom and... What if it's not real?"

The light and the tears forming made Derek's eyes shine almost blue. "What if it _is_? What if you're throwing away something special because my sister's an idiot?"

"Just... give me some time, okay? I need to think," Stiles said. "I'm not saying that I never want to see you again, I just, it's all happening at once and I need to figure out where it all fits."

Derek didn't look happy about it, but he nodded and took a step back. It was what Stiles wanted, even if it made him feel cold and lonely. With a lopsided smile, Stiles said, "Don't lose my number."

"Stiles, please, all I want is you." He looked so devastated Stiles almost gave in, even if he knew that giving in would be completely the wrong thing when he still felt so confused.

"I can't be your Christmas present," he said, turning to enter the building and get Nat out of the cold. Derek's shoulders slumped and he looked completely defeated, and Stiles couldn't stand the thought of leaving things like that. "Although, you know, by the time your birthday rolls around, maybe? Or mine's in April, by then maybe we'll be ready to put a bow on it."

The tiny smile he got was enough to let Stiles close the building's door and start trudging up the stairs, thoughts in a whirl as he tried to figure out if he was crazy or stubborn or both.

***

Cleaning up from his frenzy of baking kept him occupied in between Nat's feedings and diapering and cuddle time, so the rest of the day passed quickly enough. The night was longer, but Stiles pulled out the books he'd gotten from the library book sale and the second hand store and started going through them. If he kept looking at his phone and thinking of texting Derek, that was his business. He was being _mature_ , dammit. 

The worst part was that he'd started thinking about how easy it would be to let Derek take care of him, to stop worrying about where the next meal was going to come from and how to get more work so he could buy diapers. The phone psychic thing had paid better, but the company had insisted that he had to be absolutely certain there were no interruptions and no chance of a baby's crying in the background or he'd be fired with no chance of being re-hired. Nat was just not at that place yet, and what little money he'd managed to save up had been used up while he was at the hospital with Nat. 

He felt sick at the thought of using Derek that way. Derek deserved so, so much more; he deserved all the nice things the world could offer. Stiles was pretty sure he wasn't one of them.

But, if Derek wanted him, loved him, and if Stiles was pretty sure he loved him back...

"Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuugh." Maybe it would make sense after he'd gotten some sleep.

***

There was still nothing that made sense when he woke up, but that was in part because he was in no way ready to wake up when there was a tentative knock on his door that set Nat off crying and left Stiles dithering over which one to deal with first. Nat won but was temporarily pacified with a binky, so he shuffled to the door and opened it, rehearsing in his head what he would say to Derek.

Except it wasn't Derek; it was his dad.

"Merry Christmas, kiddo." His dad was really there, out of uniform and carrying a big box wrapped in paper that gaily proclaimed 'baby's first Christmas.'

Clearing his throat, Stiles said, "Dad. Hey. Uh, merry Christmas."

"I understand if you don't want to talk to me," his dad said. "Your mom would've kicked my ass for the things I said to you, and then cursed my nose to fall off for not running after you to apologize."

"Or she would've agreed with you," Stiles said, shifting from foot to foot. "What I said--"

His father dropped the present and pulled him into a bear hug, squeezing him tight, then pulled him out to arm's length so he could grip Stiles by the shoulders as he looked him in the eye. "Listen to me, I was _wrong_. You manned up and took the hard road and I should've been there for you. I'm so proud of you, even if I don't have any right to be after what I've done."

Stiles was going to have to superglue his tear ducts closed if he kept tearing up like he'd been doing the past couple of days. "You were just upset and disappointed. You didn't do anything."

"Not doing anything is exactly what I did wrong," his dad said, pulling him into another hug. "Oh, kid, I missed you so much."

With a watery laugh, Stiles said, "Not half as much as I missed you."

"I couldn't believe it when you sent that picture." John picked up the present again, brushing off imaginary dirt as he blinked away the suspicious moisture in his own eyes. "I know I didn't deserve it, but thank you."

Cocking his head to one side, Stiles said, "What picture?"

His dad fumbled for his phone, but Nat's patience with the binky was over and the small "I'm hungry" cry was going to turn into a shriek fit to burst eardrums if he didn't feed her quickly. "Come in if you want, I'm just going to grab her a bottle."

"Can I help?" His dad followed him inside, putting the box on top of the crate with a board on top that Stiles used as a table. "It's been a while, but I'm sure it'll all come back to me."

"Check her diaper?" Stiles had bottle-making down to a science, but he'd forgotten to boil water and put it in the fridge the night before and he didn't trust the tap water in the building enough to use it straight. "Maybe that'll buy us a few minutes."

He kept half an eye on his dad and Nat while willing the water to boil faster, then dropping in some of the ice cubes made from clean water to cool it enough for Nat to drink. His dad handled Nat with ease, changing and powdering her and then bouncing her gently and making faces to keep her focused and entertained while they waited. Stiles felt a pang of bitterness that his dad hadn't been there all along.

"I couldn't have given her up," Stiles said. "As soon as Lydia said she was willing to carry her, there wasn't any option other than being her dad, not for me."

His dad sobered, holding Nat closer, as if to protect her from the echo of his words demanding that Stiles get his girlfriend to have an abortion or sign adoption papers. "I've never been more wrong in my life."

"No, you haven't," Stiles said. "That was... pretty unforgivable."

"I understand," his dad said hoarsely, looking twenty years older as he lowered Nat back into her crib. "Thank you for, for letting me see her, and--"

Stiles shook his head. "No, Dad, I'm not saying that I don't forgive you, I just, I need you to never even think about saying anything like that again. Nat is the most important person in the world, okay? And you need to understand that."

"I do." He could see his dad swallowing hard, and his hands trembled a bit. "I know I don't deserve it, but--"

"I said some pretty horrible things, too," Stiles said, giving the bottle a shake before testing the temperature. "So maybe we just go forward and we just, we figure stuff out? Because I could use some help with figuring out how to be a good dad."

Wryly, his dad said, "I think I can at least give you some tips on what not to do."

Stiles went in for a hug, and they only broke apart when Nat started screaming in earnest for her meal. His dad sniffled and wiped at his cheeks roughly as Stiles hopped to give it to her. "Christ, she's got a wail like a banshee. You were always a quiet baby."

"Just lulling you guys into a false sense of security," Stiles said as he settled with Nat on the bed, trying to tilt the bottle so she wouldn't swallow a bellyfull of air in her haste. 

"You got that right. Your first through sixth words were all said at the same time." His dad chuckled and said, "Your mom was so mad that not one of them was anything close to 'mama,' and then she bust a gut laughing the next day when we realized you'd said 'dog' and not 'dad.'"

With a grin, Stiles said, "What were the rest of them?"

"Please, dog, no, fire, bad, bitch," his dad said. "We never did figure out where you learned that last one, but you got a lot of mileage out of it every time you were unhappy."

The words were enough to trigger the memory of a recurring dream he'd had as a kid, of a family that got trapped in a house and burned up by a crazy lady. Sometimes the family was made up of people and sometimes they were huge dogs - more like wolves, now that he could identify them in his memory - but they were always burned up. Stiles spent half his childhood looking up ways to prevent and put out fires, until his mom had taught him a spell and he chanted it every night until the dream had stopped coming.

Bringing Nat up to his shoulder to burp her, he said, "Do you remember the spells Mom would teach me?"

"You guys had a spell for everything," his dad said with a smile, the first time Stiles could remember them talking about his mom since she died without it seeming like they were bleeding on the inside. "Sometimes I could've sworn they worked, too."

"My beanstalk," Stiles said, laughing. "I don't know where you guys got those mutant seeds, but those were some huge beans."

"We just picked 'em up at the hardware store in the garden center," his dad said. "To be honest, I'm kind of glad you moved on to your dinosaur phase before that thing got big enough to climb."

They kept talking about childhood stories, some that Stiles had almost forgotten and some that his dad barely remembered, and some where they finished each other's sentences because the memories were so clear for both of them. Nat spent some time happily in her grandfather's arms, and was perfectly content to get her next bottle from him. The selfie Stiles took with his dad's phone of the three of them together was instantly made the lock screen wallpaper, and Stiles took the opportunity to peek at the picture that had prompted his dad to come over. It was from the day before, Stiles gazing lovingly into Nat's eyes as they sat by the Hale's Christmas tree, and Stiles barely needed to look at the sender to confirm his suspicion that Derek had sent it.

"So, I should tell you that I didn't send the picture," Stiles said. "But, um, the guy who did? Is probably going to be my boyfriend soon."

His dad looked taken aback. "But... Nat's mom?"

"We were never together," Stiles said. "She was too drunk to realize that sleeping with the guy that had a crush on her forever wasn't going to make her forget the asshole she was in love with, and I was too drunk to realize she didn't actually want me."

"Oh, kid." Stiles squirmed under his dad's pitying gaze. "So, you're gay now? And this guy, he's good to you?"

Shrugging, Stiles said, "I'm pretty sure I was always bisexual? And he's so good, Dad. I think you're really going to like him."

"He gave me the push I needed to get off my ass and grovel like I should have done months ago," his dad said. "I like him already."

Stiles felt like he should call Derek right then, because his stomach had been twisting all morning with the urge to call him, but the anxiety was probably from the nightmares he'd had and didn't remember, and he'd look pretty silly ordering Derek to give him space and then calling him within twelve hours. "You'll meet him soon. I already had to meet his family, so."

"You didn't like them?" His dad looked up in concern.

"No, they're great," Stiles said. "Or, I mean, I thought they were, but then they may've just felt sorry for me."

With a grunt, his dad said, "Anyone that doesn't appreciate you doesn't know what they're missing."

"You've said so before," Stiles said. "All through elementary and middle school, if I remember correctly."

"Well, you were kind of a jerk in high school." The teasing was obviously automatic, and his dad gave him an almost fearful look as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "I mean--"

Waving it off, Stiles said, "Scott was a bad influence. It was a thing."

"Sure--" The phone rang, and Stiles recognized the ringtone for the emergency line from the station. 

He'd meant to connect the call and hold it up to his dad's ear, but then he heard Tara saying, "Sheriff, the Hale house is on fire."

"Are the Hales out?" 

"We don't have any units there yet," she said. "They haven't even been able to get any trucks through - someone blocked the road with a crashed truck and set it on fire, too. Some of their guys are trying to get through on foot, but they could use any assistance we can give."

"On our way," Stiles said grimly, hanging up and grabbing his own phone to try to call Derek. There was no answer, and Stiles went through his contacts until he found the number for Melissa McCall. "I need someone to watch my daughter right now."

There was a long pause before she said, "How bad is it?"

"About to literally walk into fire," Stiles said. "Are you at home?"

"At work, but I'm about to get off shift, I can--"

"We'll meet you there," Stiles said, handing his dad Nat's outdoor gear before restocking her bag with diapers and bottles. "Dad's going to use the sirens, so ten minutes or less. And warn them there might be incoming from a fire."

He snapped the bag closed and grabbed the car seat, thanking providence that he'd been too worn out to put the base back in his car after Derek had dropped them off. Melissa was talking, saying something about explaining it all later, but he didn't have time to listen. "Dad, the hospital and then the Preserve. Someone's trying to kill the Hales."

***

"This is the wrong way." Stiles snapped out of his trance of feverishly reciting the spell to put out fires that he'd mostly forgotten. 

Shaking his head, the sheriff said, "They've got enough people bottlenecked at the road, and the regular hiking trails would take too long. We're going to use the old bootlegger trail."

This wasn't something Stiles had ever heard of, but his dad had pried enough details out of him in between frantic attempts at calling Derek and chanting spells to know how important this was to Stiles. He wouldn't do anything less than his damndest to make it all right. 

"Put that on, then put your jacket back on over it," the sheriff said when they stopped, tossing a bullet-proof vest at Stiles before pulling his gun belt and badge out of the lockbox he kept in the trunk. "If things start going down, you get behind me and get down - your daughter needs you to come home."

His stomach a pit of dread as he followed his dad's order, Stiles said, "You think there'll be shooting?"

It was and it wasn't reassuring to see his dad loading the clip into his gun and racking the slide to load a bullet in the chamber. "All I know is, the last person to try to set the Hale house on fire was a crazy dame from a family of gun nuts. She's still rotting in jail for rape and attempted murder, but that's not to say that she didn't send someone to finish the job for her."

Jogging along behind his dad, Stiles said, "Someone tried to set the Hales on fire before? How come I didn't know about it?"

"You were just a kid," his dad said. "And it ended up not catching - best the arson investigator could come up with is that she got some dud chemicals and the damp weather did the rest."

Stiles tripped on a root and stumbled, making him fall a bit behind his dad. He chanted the spell again, touching the trunk of a tree and feeling like it hummed beneath his fingers. He hurried to catch up, not wanting to lose sight of his dad, but then his dad turned and shushed him.

"So, you see, Derek, this is only what you deserve." Stiles couldn't see who had spoken, but he wanted to kick their ass. The sheriff had to slap his hand over his son's mouth to keep Stiles from crying out indignantly. "It's your _fault_ , and you're going to think about that as you wait here and watch your family _burn._ "

"Why are you doing this?" Derek sounded bewildered and despairing, and Stiles would already be halfway to him if his dad hadn't pinned him down with a look before easing his way forward, gun at the ready. "If you're just going to kill me, why not let me die with my family?"

Stiles could see the old guy now in the light of the roaring fire behind them, his foot on Derek's chest and a gun pointed down at his forehead. The smile he gave was all the creepier for coming from such a frail old man that could probably pass as a kindly grandpa - as long as you didn't look at his eyes. "Because you, Derek, you're going to have to do a little more suffering than the others, for the greater good."

"You're sick," Derek spat out. 

"I am," the old man said, smiling like something that lived under a rock. "But where science has failed me, the supernatural won't. Do you think the alpha power will pass between your family members as they die one by one? I wonder if you'll feel it."

"Not that it'll matter," the old guy said, grinding his foot down. "I knew it would just be a matter of time before your whole pack of mongrels got comfortable enough to gather in one place again. You'll be the only one left."

"But don't worry," he crooned, leaning down and patting the side of Derek's face with the gun. "You won't be alone for long."

It was the best the sheriff was going to get to preventing Derek getting shot just from the old man being startled. "Beacon County Sheriff, hands behind your head!"

The old guy shot in his direction instead, only to fall backwards when the sheriff returned fire. "Kill him," he hissed, one hand clasped over his bleeding shoulder.

Something tall and scaly and with a freaking _barbed tail_ came out of the darkness and leapt towards the sheriff, barely hesitating as he emptied the clip into its chest. Stiles threw himself into the fray, tackling his dad out of the way and screaming a curse in the thing's direction. 

It was enough to make the thing pause, and Stiles stood in front of his dad, facing it down. "You're not getting my dad. No one should lose their dad, but especially not after I already lost my mom."

The thing wavered, it's scales shivering and fading to skin in patches. "Dad?"

" _Kill--_ " 

"Shut up!" Stiles snapped, glaring at where the old guy had brought himself to a seated position. His skin felt tight and he _hated_ that old man, hated him in a way he'd never hated anyone or anything, furious and shivering from the intensity of it. The old man's mouth moved, but no sound came out and Stiles walked to him as if in a trance. 

The old man's eyes went wide and terrified and his mouth moved frantically, but the most he could do was grunt. Stiles kicked him in the chest, pressing his foot down so he felt what it had been like for Derek. "Karma. Everything you've ever done comes back to you. That's what I want to happen - what you deserve."

Something inside his mind _clicked_ and he realized he could do it, he could _make_ that happen, and he touched a hand to the man's forehead and whispered an incantation. It wasn't much, nothing like the clever little verses that his mom had come up with, but it was enough. The old man's eyes went unseeing with horror, and he groaned and grunted with wordless gibbering. 

Exhaustion overcame him and he slumped to the ground, hearing his name called by both Derek and his dad. He lifted his head to see the lizard creature hold a hand out towards his dad, only for it to turn into a naked girl with dark curls as soon as he took it. It was the last thing he saw before he passed out.

***

"Nat!" Stiles bolted up, frantically trying to work out why he hadn't heard her and where she was.

"She's okay," came a soothing voice. "Grandpa took her with him for a few minutes, but they'll be back soon."

Stiles looked around, mind whirling, only to find his surroundings resolving themselves into a hospital room. "What happened?"

"As near as we can tell, months of stress and malnutrition combined with smoke inhalation led to you collapsing from exhaustion." Melissa came out of the adjoining bathroom and brought Stiles a plastic cup with water. "Kid, you need to learn to call for help _before_ things are life and death. We could've lost you to your own stubbornness."

"Derek, my dad--" Stiles trembled and half the water sloshed out of the cup she'd pressed into his hand. 

Melissa took the cup and held it to his lips, looking at him sternly until he took a sip, then guzzled the rest of it convulsively. "They're okay, just worried about you. The only casualties were you and Gerard Argent, thank God."

"That's the old bas- er, guy?" She nodded and checked his pulse, taking his chin in his hand to tilt his head so she could look in his eyes. "And all the Hales are okay?"

Smiling, she said, "They're never going to live down the way the whole town's talking about their weird naked Christmas ritual and a couple got singed trying to go back in, but they're all fine. You're the only one we've been worried about."

"I'm not sure that made sense," Stiles said, but she was helping him to lay back down and he was dizzy enough that it seemed like a good idea. "Tell Dad he needs to bring my kid back. And a cheeseburger. With bacon."

The next time he woke up, Derek was asleep in the recliner next to his bed, one hand holding Nat steady as she snoozed on his chest. Stiles felt a rush of warmth and pictured waking up to similar scenes in the years to come. It was a good picture. 

Nat's eyes fluttered open and Derek was awake seconds later, his hand moving softly over her back. "So, I heard you guys get naked for Christmas."

" _Stiles._ " Derek was across the room faster than he could blink, and then Stiles had his arms full of baby while having the life hugged out of him. "You..."

"Yeah, big guy, it's me." He squirmed until he could pull himself up on his side, resting Nat on the bed and freeing an arm so he could wrap it around Derek. "I have so many questions. Like, so many."

Derek just nuzzled into his neck and took a deep sniff. Stiles toyed with his hair, still tired enough to just go with it. Someone would explain sooner or later, and in the meantime two of his three necessary people were here and okay. 

They couldn't stay that way for long; Nat needed a diaper change and a bottle, and the nurse on the next shift insisted that being an employee of the same hospital didn't excuse Derek from obeying visiting hours, especially since he'd taken vacation time around Christmas. She only backed down when the sheriff arrived and turned on the charm, turning her flushed and fluttery as she agreed that maybe the rules could be bent a little.

When she'd finally made her way out to answer a call in another room, Derek settled on the foot of the bed and his dad sank into the recliner with the baby in her carrier at his feet. "You really don't do anything half-assed, do you?" 

"In my defense, I'm not 100% sure what I did," Stiles said. "But I'm pretty sure I'm magic."

"Looks like it," his dad said. "By the way, you have a sister now. She's a kanima, but we're hoping she can get over that."

Opening and closing his mouth, Stiles tried to process that. "You adopted the lizard thing?"

"Took temporary guardianship of a vulnerable adult," the sheriff said. Stiles looked at him and his dad sighed. "Yes, I adopted the lizard girl. She needs family right now, and her sicko grandfather killed off her mom and dad."

Stiles thought over everything that had happened and turned to Derek. "Werewolf?"

Derek nodded. "Psychic?"

"Something." He'd have to do some reading to figure out exactly what. At least now he'd be able to get to his mom's books, since he and his dad were on good terms again. "What happened with the crazy old guy?"

"He started talking as soon as we got to the station and he's spent the past two days confessing," his dad said. "I'm getting commendations from all sorts of jurisdictions for clearing up their cold cases and exposing a deep-rooted international cult of lunatic serial killers who believe they're werewolf hunters."

Covering his mouth with his hand, Stiles tried to think of what he'd even said. It had been spur of the moment and he'd been under stress but he recalled the sensation of it being _right_. "I don't even remember what I said."

Derek and the sheriff exchanged a glance, and Derek sighed before murmuring, "Harm none, you're done / Your words will cease / Till you tell the police / Feel what you did / tell what you hid / every last sin / from end to begin / can't hope for death / until the last mutter / so after all you confess / burn in hell, motherfucker."

"In my defense, I've never been all that into poetry," Stiles said. "And epic rap freestyles have never been in my wheelhouse."

"It got the job done," his dad said. "A lot of people are going to get justice thanks to those confessions."

Stiles rubbed the back of his head and tried to think of how to respond to that. "I guess I should find a poetry class online or something."

His dad patted his leg and said, "We can talk about that once you're on your feet. I had an idea I wanted to run by you, but it can wait until you're out of here."

"My mother said magic can consume a user down to the marrow," Derek said. "My uncle's explanation was that it's like the lowest blood sugar crash imaginable, and most magic users with any sense carb-load before a working."

"Guess it's just as well I stuffed myself over at your place," Stiles said. And binged on all the imperfect cookies he'd left at home, not to mention the extra ones he'd baked just to finish off the flour and keep busy stewing about Derek and what he should do, but that didn't really need to be spoken of.

The nurse came back, practically batting her eyelashes at the sheriff, and Derek kissed Stiles just below his ear. "Can I go home with you?"

"Yeah," Stiles croaked, grateful he wasn't on a monitor that would give away his racing heart. "Mi casa es su casa."

***

It turned out Derek had taken that literally, his clothes crammed into the tiny closet and his leather jacket hanging on the back of a chair that had appeared from nowhere. Stiles arched an eyebrow and Derek shrugged. "I figured your dad wouldn't like sitting on our bed."

"If you keep up with this weird need for furnishings, we may need to take Laura up on that offer of an apartment," Stiles said. "Although I refuse to be a kept man."

Derek gave him a tentative smile. "She's living there now, with Cora and Malia. Pretty much all our available properties are housing pack right now."

"All your properties?" Stiles reared back to look at him. "Jesus, how rich are you guys?" 

"Enough that none of us have to work," Derek said. "Laura's never bothered."

Stiles felt like an ass as realization sank in. "But you do - and that's why you never tried anything like what Laura did, because you understood all along how I felt about it."

"If I'd realized you were starving yourself, I would have," Derek said. 

Sighing, Stiles said, "We're idiots."

"Damn right you are," the sheriff said as he walked in with Nat. 

"You don't even know what we were talking about," Stiles said, to which his dad just shrugged. "Go on, go to work. You know that paperwork isn't going to finish itself."

The sheriff groaned. "Don't remind me."

They exchanged 'I love you's and a hug before the sheriff headed out, leaving Stiles with what he was increasingly thinking of as his own small family. Derek looked hesitant, as if he was afraid Stiles would shatter or push him away, and Stiles kissed him firmly because that was enough of that.

"So, how much will I scare you if I say I'm pretty sure I love you?" Stiles said, then gave Derek another small kiss when he just stared at Stiles with all sorts of hope and fear shining from his eyes. "Okay, I can see I have to up my game in being super attached way too quickly. Let's see, how about if I tell you that I'm super attached to being called dad or daddy by the kid, so we're going to have to figure out some kind of other father-related name for her to call you when she starts talking?"

"I could--" Derek's voice broke, entirely betraying his attempt to match the breezy tone Stiles was affecting. "I could be her papa."

Stiles nodded solemnly. "All right, I can see you're a tough nut to crack. If this one doesn't scare you off, I may have to give up on the whole concept and just keep you."

It was pretty clear Derek was holding his breath in anticipation, and Stiles allowed a moment to go by before finally saying, "Well, the evidence suggests that Stilinskis mate for life, so you may be stuck with me a really long time..."

"Wolves do too," Derek said, pressing Stiles against the wall and kissing him until he forgot his own name. " _Mine._ "

That growl probably should've seemed creepy or controlling. Instead it just made Stiles hot all over. "Only if you're mine."

Stiles took the way that Derek sucked a mean hickey into his neck as agreement to his terms.

***

"But seriously," Stiles said some time later. "Is this kind of immediate romantic attachment a wolf thing?"

Derek grumbled and rolled over, pulling a pillow over his head. Stiles picked it up and hit him with it. "I need to know! Were we destined?"

"Maybe?" Derek leaned up on his elbow. "There's stories about destined mates, just like there's human stories about love at first sight. I don't know which of those it was, although my mom and your dad think that you saved us from the first fire, too. Maybe the destiny is from your side."

"That could've meant I was destined to be with Cora or Peter or your mom," Stiles said. 

Tilting his head side to side, Derek said, "And there could be any number of gorgeous people who smell amazingly good."

"They can't have you," Stiles said. "I've got dibs, so you're stuck with funny-looking and occasionally rank."

"Sometimes I want to go and claw up whoever it was that convinced you that you aren't amazing and beautiful," Derek said. "But then I think it might be better to just keep telling you until you believe it."

Stiles sighed, because he couldn't _not_. "You might have to tell it to me a lot. Like, a whole lot, a lot."

"Then I'll tell you every day." Derek leaned in until their foreheads were touching. "Every hour, if that's what it takes."

"Maybe not every hour," Stiles said. "But every day, I could get with that."

Derek smiled and kissed the tip of his nose. "Okay."

He moved off the bed and pulled on a clean pair of briefs before padding over to the crib and efficiently changing Nat's diaper. "She's been doing great with her weight gain. Her daddy should take lessons."

"Maybe I'm waiting for a muscle-bound gladiator to feed me peeled grapes," Stiles said, yawning and considering the merits of finding out whether there was anything in his cabinets. "Or, hey, my sugar papa could order us some pizza. I hear that's very fattening."

"Only if you eat a salad, too," Derek said. "Your dad mentioned you have a family history of heart diease."

His jaw dropped. "That devious jerk! That was just petty revenge for my making him eat healthy when I was in high school."

Derek hummed noncommittally before pulling out his phone and putting in the order. Stiles lounged in bed and watched him get a bottle ready and then feed Nat while holding her against his chest. "You know, if I took a picture of this and sold it as posters, I could make a million dollars."

"I'll pay you a million dollars not to," Derek said, keeping his tone soft and soothing since he was holding the baby.

"Easy money," Stiles said, taking a quick picture before returning his phone to the nightstand. "I don't want anyone else to get to see you like this."

Smiling fondly, Derek crooned, "Your daddy's silly, isn't he?"

"Hey, no ganging up on me." Stiles yawned. "We're going to have to figure out serious stuff eventually. Like going back to work and money and where we live and what this magic thing means and werewolf 101, because I feel seriously under-informed."

"Eventually," Derek said. "My mom wants to see her namesake, and probably offer you all her worldly possessions for saving our family, twice."

Frowning, Stiles said, "I sort of understand the first time, with the prophetic dreams and all that, but what happened this time? No one ever told me anything except that they were all outside naked."

"They were all trapped inside, but Malia was holding her card from you and they realized holding the cards kept them safe, from both the fire itself and the smoke." Derek shuddered, and Stiles hauled himself out of bed to plaster himself against his back. "Their clothes burned right off their bodies."

Stiles kissed the center of Derek's back, trying to convey love and reassurance. "I'm going to tattoo those runes on all of them."

"I'll buy you the gun and ink," Derek said, leaning into his touch. "And pick you up each time you faint from seeing blood."

Snickering, Stiles said, "You might know me too well. Tattoo artist is not a good career choice for me, although I should ask for a raise if I go back to being a phone psychic."

With a small hum, Derek closed his eyes and leaned his head back. Stiles thought it fit very well on his shoulder. "What was it you were studying in college?"

"I hadn't declared a major," Stiles said. "Although I'd ruled out pre-med."

"If you want to go back, I can cut back my hours," Derek said. "And pretty much everyone in the pack has offered to babysit."

Stiles tightened his arms around Derek. "We'll figure that out tomorrow. Or the next day."

"Or the one after that." Derek turned and kissed Stiles softly. "Whenever we're ready."

**Author's Note:**

> Spoiler/explanation: Gerard tried to arrange getting bitten and becoming an alpha earlier, using the excuse of Allison's training to have her, Chris, and Victoria provide backup. They were bitten and Chris was killed. Victoria held the alpha down and ordered Allison to kill him in the hopes that she would be cured, then took the gun Gerard held out and did what she thought she had to do. Allison snapped under the pressure of months of conditioning by her parents and grandfather and having seen both of her parents die and became a kanima, which made her an even more perfect tool for Gerard even if it delayed his search for an alpha weak enough that it could be forced to bite him and then killed immediately after.
> 
> ETA (1/24/16): Since a couple people have mentioned the pacing, I wanted to explain that the first part, when Nat is still in the NICU, was deliberately written to try to give the impression of time flowing at a weird pace, both dragging and being done in a blink. This is because I gave Stiles one of my life experiences - my son was in the NICU for 25 days after he was born. Both at the time and in my memory, that whole period was just a timeless blur.


End file.
